Transgressions are made
While cowards convey
With a demon's ear, fixed and set to slay.
While the statue awaits
To be whittled away
With a mock of a slogan hiding filth with fear.
Never to learn,
Only to burn
(...and be burned.)
Branded straight through slate,
Clear as common day.
(Go slowly cause at the moment things you'd never
Think
You'd ever see are happening and you can't believe the
Hatred.)
What shall be the mark to be made,
When we crush it all to burn it down,
Without sight, without sound?
Not anything but a casualty forgotten in the ground.
A simple shell, that's solemn still--without sight,
Without sound.
Make a martyr,
A pedestal with ribbons of slaughter.
Feed the altar,
Stoke the fire it will take over.
Ignore the cut... the skin with callus as well as
Interest.
If all are reckless none is to profit,
None is to win it.
(Go slowly cause at the moment things you'd never
Think
You'd ever see are happening and you can't believe the
Hatred.) 2x
So who will pay for all the tears,
All the lives, from either side?
All the years, all the time of living blind
Playing God Deciding?
And who will die next in line
For the lie, justified
For the rise of sitting high playing God Deciding?
And who will walk away
From the rage and revenge?
Inhumane consequence comes in time
Playing God Deciding.
And who will fall in line to arrive,
Out of sight and out of mind?
Out of mind?
Out of mind?
Out of mind?
Out of...?
Out of...?
Writer(s): Matt Skiba, Daniel Andriano, Derek Grant, Matthew Thomas Skiba
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